


This wilderness of my heart

by Kamalika



Category: Derek Hale - Fandom, Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Adult Stiles Stilinski, Child Derek Hale, F/M, M/M, Teen Derek Hale
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-10
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-25 22:58:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 12,382
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6213544
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kamalika/pseuds/Kamalika
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if the ages of Derek and Stiles are reversed. What if Derek is the sixteen year old kid devastated by his losses, but brave enough to try to take on the world single-handedly even though it frightens the shit out of him and Stiles is seven years his senior...but not necessarily more mature!</p><p>In a world where Stiles knew Derek since when he was just an adorable toddler and has a hard time reconciling him to his new serial-killing image, Derek is a surprising mix of sass and fierceness and heart-wrenching innocence. Also, legally emancipated or not, Derek is under-age. </p><p>Whereas the mad attraction Stiles feels for him is bad news from every angle and with Derek even refusing to acknowledge he knew Stiles from his childhood, it is up to Stiles to solve the mystery named Derek Hale without coming across as a 'Goddamn paedo'! And he will need to walk on eggshells here for whatever has happened to Derek before or after the fire, it has changed him greatly, for the worse and Stiles is determined to change it back!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The first encounter

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the beautiful story of AgnesBlue 'Weave Soft Spells Over My Sight (As Thy False Eyes Do)'

“What are you doing here?”

Scott stumbled backward and stepped right on my toe.

“Ow, ow, ow...” I danced on one leg, holding the injured feet. “Dude...the fuck!”

Scott jabbed an elbow into my ribs and only then I noticed the dark figure standing around ten feet ahead of us.

“This is private property.”

I gaped, for that was the least I could do. Sleek black leather jacket on dark round-neck t-shirt, dark jeans and black converse... don’t judge , fashion-sense could tell a lot about a person and so that was the first thing I noticed, besides the physique, which would make a runway model proud.

Only after taking in the broad chest and the square shoulders and the slim waist my eyes roved upwards and then I gasped – audibly.

For I had never set my eyes on someone so beautiful (and it was a gender-neutral observation) in my entire life which included Lydia Martin and my Anime collection and that was saying something.

I didn’t know whether I should kneel and worship the jawline or wax lyrical to the large hazel (or green I was not quite sure) eyes or write a fucking dissertation on the nose straight as an arrow and its genetic and anthropological significance!

Scott reached out without even bothering to look at me and pushed my chin upward to close my mouth, which it did with an audible click.

The gorgeous man...no kid...it was actually a kid with the built of a man...was saying something and he looked downright murderous. If looks could kill, we would be cinders by now.

“Derek Hale –” I cut him off mid-sentence and he switched his focus (or glare) from Scott to me.

What the actual fuck!!!

“You....know me?” Charcoal eyebrows shot up (and it was a testament to his eyes and other...features that I noticed the eyebrows the last!), but the mistrust and hostility was still there.

“Derek,” I blurted out, taking a step towards the kid who looked for all his bravado like he actually wanted to take a step back. What the hell?

“Derek buddy it is me!” I took another, more cautions step for Derek had started to look frighteningly similar to a cornered animal.

“Stiles,” Scott hissed behind me, concerned. Well, I couldn’t really blame him. With my history of putting the wrong foot forward all the time, it was to be expected I would do something stupid, like calling a strange hostile kid in the middle of the forest by his Christian name, startling the shit out of him and approaching him like some sort of Goddamn paedo. Oh, fuck, that reminded me, Derek was barely sixteen, seven years my junior. I winced inwardly for the inappropriate thoughts that had been racing through my mind!

“Stiles?” Derek scrunched his eyebrows and he looked minutely less hostile, only minutely.

“Yes Derek. I didn’t know you were back! I mean...you are not exactly...but you know me! I am...I was worried about you for a long time, but I thought you were ok at New York with your sister. I never –”

“Do I know you.” The question came flat, without any inflection and Derek’s face was finally wiped off any trace of anger. It was completely devoid of any emotion. It was blank. I didn’t know if it was an improvement over the previous angry one for it did something funny to my heart.

I bit my lower lip to stop from screaming at him.

...

“I don’t want to go to bed. I wanna play ‘tiles...I wanna –” the kid sniffed dramatically, tears welling up in his big eyes.

“Alright Derry,” I sighed. I was just a helpless sap. Whenever those hazel eyes turned to me with any expression – be it sad (occasionally) or mischievous (which was often the case) or plain curiosity (not that often for he was a surprisingly un-curious child) – I was entirely powerless to resist.

Therefore here I was, draping a black woollen blanket around me, mock attacking the three-year old kid in red hoodie while the latter squealed in delight as he darted around the room on light feet, climbing the furniture or sometimes up the curtains like a fucking monkey.

“Derry,” I finally sat back on my haunches on the carpet, trying to catch my breath. “I really need to get you to bed now. Your mom is going to kill me.”

The kid climbed down from where he was perched (this time it was above the black and white television on the top of a shelf, huh!!!) reluctantly and came to me.

“You know the rules.” I said solemnly.

Derry just rolled his eyes (God, yes, he was just THAT kind of a kid) and stretched out his arms with a put-upon sigh. I picked him up and carried him to his room. Man, he was getting heavier everyday!

I settled him on his bed, tucking him in, while he followed my movements closely with those impossible eyes of his. I said hazel, but I swore they changed colour each time the weather changed.

Finally, I perched on the edge of his bed with his favourite book in my hand.

“Story-time?” I asked. To speak the truth it was for my own enjoyment as well as his. I loved fairy tales. It was kind of a fetish and of course a secret one for no self-respecting 10-year-old would confess they still swoon on Grimm’s fairy tales or Hans Christian Andersen.

The boy just nodded solemnly. He was the most serious three-year-old I had ever seen, but when he smiled, it was like angels were singing.

I smiled down at him softly and started reading.

I was half-way through ‘Little Mermaid,’ one of Derry’s favourites when the doorbell rang. I let it ring for I knew Gramma Hale would be there to open the door.

The background silence was immediately broken with the throaty laughter of Rory Byrne, Derry’s father and the melodic voice of Talia Hale. Within minutes they were peeking from the doorway.

“Hey kiddo,” Rory said. “Is he asleep?”

“I am sure that is not the case.” Talia just pushed the door open and barged in, shoving Rory aside. For such a lithe and graceful woman, Talia seemed to pack a surprising amount of strength for Rory stood at a good six feet four and had the built of a light-weight boxer.

“Mom,” Derry called from the bed and Talia was immediately by his other side.

“Hey,” she smiled down. “How is my baby boy?”

“I have been good.” Derry squirmed indignantly as Talia kissed him on the forehead. Well he was not fooling anybody for we all knew he was secretly pleased with the attention. “Ask ‘tiles.”

Talia arched one brow at me. “Stiles, your father should have been here an hour ago. It is past your bedtime too!” She didn’t sound stern, just...concerned.

“Dad called at your landline. I told him I wanted to stay until Laura or Peter or you guys came back.” I said, shrugging. “It is not a big deal. I didn’t want to leave Derry all by himself.”

“Well son,” Rory had walked in and placed a hand on my shoulder. “but granny was here.”

Derry snorted and I fought back the urge to laugh. Gramma Hale was as sweet as they made them but she was more forgetful than a squirrel. It was entirely possible that she would forget she had a grandson and would go out into the forest for a midnight prowl (she really did that sometimes, freaky!) leaving the poor kid alone in a big house.

“I am so sorry darling.” Talia was shaking her head. “Rory you need to drive the kid home. Claudia would –”

“She is still at the hospital.” I said, before I could help myself. “It is only my father and I.”

“You can stay with me.” Derry clutched my wrist with his little hand and I looked down at the cherubic face. His eyes were solemn as always and his gaze more intense than a normal three-year-old kid’s had any right to be. “I will bay’sit you.”

I looked away, feeling my own eyes tearing up in response to the overwhelming sense of warm promise in the innocent words. The kid is fucking adorable. This is why I had volunteered this babysitting duty at the Hale house, though my father insisted I was too young for it.

The truth was, I did it for me as well as for Derry, whom I first met when he was but a toddler when he accompanied his mom to our house for the first time. We had hit it right off the bat. When he was older and started forming sentences, I would often accompany my mom to Hale house (Talia Hale being my moms’s best buddy) and instead of Laura Hale, who was of my age or Peter, who was exactly the age and certainly had that swagger and the looks that should have me hero-worshipping him, but it was little Derry with whom I would end up spending my time with.

As he grew up, I became an unofficial babysitter for him with Talia paying me back in kind (cookies, video games, books and the list was endless, really) It was hardly a chore for Derry was surprisingly easy and seldom if never threw an unreasonable tantrum. Also, for a child, he didn’t have a single possessive bone in his entire body as far as his toys or worldly possessions were concerned. He even gave them out freely to his visiting cousins (he had hordes of them and they kept visiting). He would rather play with me, acting out the fairy tales that I would read him at night.

I must have been blanked out thinking back upon the time I had known the little man and wondering since when did he become so grown-up when Talia’s words drew me back to reality.

“Stiles, honey,” she said. “You can stay over here. I am sure your dad wouldn’t mind.”

“No,” I shook my head immediately. “Dad will feel lonely. He has been lonely since mom is in the hospital.” I said, trying to hide the sadness.

“Oh sweetheart,” Talia quickly got up from the bed and came round to draw me into a hug. “It is wonderful you are taking care of your father.” Then she held me by the shoulders firmly and looked me into the eyes. “But you need to take care of yourself also. Your father is sad, but I am sure he can handle himself. He is an adult. That is what we do.”

“He drinks.” I suddenly blurted out. Then I flushed for I didn’t mean to.

Talia exchanged a look with her husband over my head. “I will have a word with John.” Rory said to answer some silent question in her eyes.

“No,” I said quickly. “I mean,” I stammered, “I didn’t...it is...do you think he would listen?” I asked desperately. “I am worried about him almost as badly as about mom.” I said.

“It will be ok.” I stared down at Derry who had again grabbed my hand and staring at me intently. God, I had all but forgotten about him for a moment there. “Dad will be ok. Mom will be ok.”

Christ, I shouldn’t even be having this conversation in front of a three-year old kid, however precocious he might sound.

“Derry, go to sleep.” I ruffled his soft raven hair. “I will come again, tomorrow.” I looked at Talia, asking for permission.

“You are always welcome honey.” Talia said, pain evident in her voice. “Don’t you even dare to ask for permission.”

“Sleep tight tiger,” I smiled down at the sweet boy whose eyes had finally begun to droop and tapped him lightly on the nose. Derry giggled, dimples appearing on the chubby cheeks and my smile turned up a notch. This kid was pure sunshine! While ‘babysitting’ him, I would momentarily forget the constant distress I was feeling over the fact that my mother was not getting well, no matter how hard the doctors were trying or that my father was slowly withdrawing into himself. I forgot the bullying at the school and the generally friendless universe that seemed so harsh and unforgiving. A three-year old with the face of an angel shouldn’t be able to make me forget my woes without even trying, but that was exactly the case and I was helpless at the face of the amount of affection the little man showered on me. I was the luckiest babysitter in the entire world!

...

“Derry?” I said uncertainly, holding out my hands, palms outward, like I wanted to show him I was harmless and unarmed.

But Derek started like he was shot, in the gut! His lips parted in blatant shock and his whole body recoiled.

“No,” he shook his head.

“What?” I asked confused, my hands still in air. Behind me Scott took a couple of steps to stand beside me, assuming a vaguely threatening pose.

“The kid is unhinged Stiles.” Scott muttered under his breath and there was NO way Derek could have heard him, but his head snapped up and he looked sharply at Scott.

“Scott,” I grabbed Scott’s arm with my left hand. “Just.stay.put.”

I knew something was very wrong with Derek and I had an idea what it could be. But my first target was to make him less defensive, to at least acknowledge that he knew me.

“Derry...come on.” I said and I didn’t really care if it seemed I was pleading. “You KNOW me.”

Derek looked utterly lost. For the first time during this little weird meeting, it seemed the table was turned and it looked like we were the predator and he was a helpless little prey trapped in a snare and he didn’t know how to escape. He looked like he was about to cry!

That last thing just about broke my heart then and there and I promptly took a couple of steps towards him, fully bent on hugging him tight, to reassure him just like I used to do when he was a child. The desire of doing that was overwhelming, though the last time I did that was more than ten years ago, which also happened to be the last day I had set foot inside the Hale house. That was the day Derek’s eyes had been hooded and hostile (pretty much like today, but far less intense) and he had told me quietly but firmly that he couldn’t play with me anymore. I had kicked up a storm like any healthy teenager, but was ultimately driven back home by dad after Talia and Rory had apologised to me a million times, exclaiming they had no idea why Derek was so mad at me!

That didn’t mean I had forgotten my little man. Talia and Rory alternately visited our house, to drop off food or to check on me or my dad at least once a week, until they were burnt to death, at their own house, along with the rest of their family. Derek and Laura were the only survivors. Peter Hale survived too, barely, but he didn’t count for he had been in coma for the last six years, with sixty percent burns and had no hope in near future to ever be normal again. Laura had left for New York with little Derek in tow and like any normal teenager, I had moved on, forgetting about the boy with kaleidoscopic eyes who once liked to play little red riding hood with me.

I forgot about the Hales...for with Scott and High School and then College and new friends, and Lydia Martin finally becoming my best bud, (I was still to get over that!) I had no time to be nostalgic about the past, especially one which featured a mother’s death and a young’ friend’s painful and illogical rejection.

I had forgotten all about them and him...until now!

“Stay back.” Derek’s tone stopped me in my track if not his glare. I was suddenly afraid for he didn’t look like a prey anymore. Somehow within a span of three seconds, he had turned the table again and he looked...dangerous and not the deranged kind of dangerous, but the kind that could break all the bones in your body without batting an eyelid and could hide your body in the forest without soiling his shirt kind of dangerous.

“Hey,” Scott piped up. “We were just looking for my inhaler.” He then grabbed my arms and tugged me back. “We are leaving anyway.”

“But –” I protested, fighting against Scott’s hold.

Derek took something out of his pocket and I could see Scott panicking, but before he could open his mouth Derek threw the inhaler at him. Scott snatched it mid-air.

Derek turned on his heels and stalked off in the opposite direction.

Both of us stared after him, open-mouthed.


	2. Magic and moonlight

I was not sure what happened exactly. But one moment my best friend had me pushed up against a tree with a hand wrapped around my throat and his eyes glowing golden, unless my vision was playing a trick on me in the moonlight, the next I knew a body slammed into Scott sideways and knocked him down on the ground.

My Nikon D7200 DSLR slipped from my hand and fell on the leafy forest floor.

The assaulter had his back at me when he had Scott pinned down on the ground and practically roared into his face. 

What in God’s name was that...for surely that was NOT a human sound!

In the ensuing silence, I took in the dark head, the broad shoulders and then the leather jacket gleaming over the contours of an impossibly perfect back.

“Derek!” I squeaked, who didn’t respond at all.

Scott whimpered from under him. I moved to their side to get a better look. Derek’s head was bowed down and so I couldn’t see his expression but there was no mistaking his stance which was not so much homicidal as a wild animal coiled tight for attack and oh...Derek’s hands were around Scott’s throat and either he had sprouted fucking claws or he had a fetish for really long nails.

“Let go of me.” Scott had found his voice and it sounded...unnatural, like he had too many teeth in his mouth and he had to talk around it.

“No,” Derek said simply, without moving a muscle.

“Derek let go...you are hurting him.” I panicked as I saw blood welling up in Scott’s skin where Derek’s ‘claws’ dug into it.

“He was hurting you.” Derek said, again in a monotone and he held himself perfectly still in his attacking posture which seemed like he was ready to snap Scott into two in a split second.

“What has that got to do with you?” I shot at him. “You refuse to even acknowledge that you know me.” I knew it was probably not very mature of me and I hated how petulant I sounded, but it needed to be said at that moment or I would have burst out of my skin.

Derek’s head snapped up and his eyes met mine. His face was a study in blankness.

“If romping around with you when I was a child and didn’t know better makes you think you can count me as your friend, please reconsider that line of thinking.”  


I had to take a calming breath and squeeze my eyes shut to stave off the hurt and anger rising up in me. God how old was this kid again and exactly how did that ball of sunshine grew up to be such an asshole!

“So you do acknowledge that you know me.” Be the adult, take charge...be the adult, take charge...my mind kept on repeating.

Derek stared at me for a couple of seconds before cocking his head to one side. The moon had hid behind the cloud and it was suddenly dark, but I could still see Derek’s eyes gleaming. 

“If you say so.” His tone was dismissive and it didn’t make my heart clench painfully, at all!

“Can...you...get off me...and then resume the flirting...as much as you like.” 

Both of our heads snapped back at Scott who was still held down by Derek. 

“What!” I squeaked.

“No.” Derek said at the same time.

“What do you mean no?” I flailed. “Just let him go man. What the hell is your problem?”

“You.are.the.fucking.problem.” Derek didn’t look at me, but he was snarling and it was directed towards me though he was still looking down at Scott.  


“Get out of here before it is too late. I will see your friend home.”

“What? No.” I said indignantly. I considered for a moment if I could try to shove Derek aside and let Scott free, but some primal instinct in me recoiled from touching or pushing Derek right now.

Derek looked up at me and for a moment my heart stopped for he looked at me the same way he did a thousand times when he would tell me to stay back and play some more with him when he was a kid.

“Stiles,” and with that I stopped breathing altogether for he uttered my name exactly like he used to, for the first time after we had met the day before yesterday. “Please.” He added quietly.

“Trust me.”

And since when I had been able to refuse Derek anyway.

“Ok,” I said feebly, trying to convince myself Derek couldn’t be the homicidal lunatic Scott was convinced he was and that Derek would make good of his promise to me. Also, something in the forest was raising my hackles and it didn’t quite sit right with me. I wanted to get away as quickly as possible.

It was a stupid idea to come back to find the body of a murdered girl in the middle of the forest. But Scott was so sure he had discovered the missing half of the body last night when he lost his inhaler and got bitten by a dog, I thought I would take a chance. It looked like a good plan at that point of time and I hoped we wouldn’t be chased down by police dogs of Beacon Hills Sheriff department like last night and got separated for we already had an idea about the place we were heading. It would be an exclusive story and God knew I could do with a break now. What we certainly didn’t count on was Scott’s reaction to a little bit of teasing about his latest crush on a cute new girl in town who had dropped to the animal clinic where he worked as an assistant to the vet with a wounded dog.

Now, the forest looked ominous, like something heavy was hanging in the air. I wanted to get away from my best friend and the kid whom I used to read bedtime stories. It was probably cowardly, but the sense of foreboding was unmistakable.

However, my stupid feet wouldn’t move. Though he made a dick move by assaulting me over a minor argument, Scott was still my best bro.

“I will take him home.” Derek was still looking at me and his voice was grave. “He will be ok.”

....

‘Stiles...he will be ok,’ Derek was holding the small trembling bird in the hollow of his hands. We had rescued him from Ruff the brute, but it was a bloody mess. ‘I will...’ 

‘Well...’ I didn’t want to placate the boy, for the bird was clearly in a lot of pain and was definitely dying, but I didn’t have the heart to tell it to him.

‘Just close your eyes I will make it alright.’ Derek pleaded. It was one of his play-acting when he would pretend he was a superhero and had the healing power, like a wizard. ‘Please,’ he added in a tiny voice.

‘Ok...’ I sighed and closed my eyes.

‘Look...’ I opened my eyes after a few seconds at Derek’s gleeful exclamation.

Like a miracle the bird had stopped shivering within moments, but Derek’s face was pinched, like he was in pain.

‘See...it is feeling better already.’ Derek smiled at me, flashing his newly sprouted bunny teeth.

I smiled down at Derek.

‘Yeah, champ. You have magic in you.’ I ruffled his hair.

Derek looked up at me. ‘Yes. I have magic in me.’ He said solemnly.

...

I knew Derek would make good of his promise and that was my only excuse, a gut feeling about a guy I haven’t seen for the last ten years, that I left Scott with Derek and moved towards my jeep parked a few meters away.

When I looked back for the last time before climbing into my jeep I saw Derek had scooted back and he and Scott were now sitting on the forest floor, cross-legged, talking softly.

Huh....!


	3. Innocent of guilty?

“I told you to stay away from that kid. I knew he was bad news.”

“Ok...ok.” I held up my hands in surrender. “At least come inside and then start yelling at me.”

I insisted Scott to come over at my place for I had to physically check if he was ok, even though he had assured me again and again over the phone. At least that was one of the reasons. The other reason was that I was feeling the onset of a panic attack ever since I heard the news.

My dad had called to let me know that the missing half of the body was finally discovered to be buried in a makeshift grave beside the Hale house where Derek had been allegedly staying since he had come to Beacon Hills. 

It was the police dogs, in fact, who had unearthed the body after Scott had informed my dad (behind my back if I might add) that we had met Derek at night at the place he had spotted the missing half of the dead body earlier.

Derek could not be found anywhere, but his car was parked right outside and there were small items in the living room of the house indicating someone, most possibly Derek, had been camping in there for the last few days. I knew I should head to Hale house, to take pictures and to seek out the whole story, but I had difficulty putting one foot in front of the other, let alone driving.

Derek was a murder suspect and a fugitive...and I couldn’t wrap my head around it!

“What were you talking about last night? After I was gone.” I quizzed Scott.

“He was asking about the dog bite.” Scott bit down his lips. “He was asking weird questions.”

“Like?” I raised my eyebrows. “Also, how did he even know that you were bitten by a dog?”

“I don’t know.” Scott shook his head. “But then we heard a wolf howling, he sort of panicked and bundled me into his car and drove me home.”

“Scott...” I fumbled with the hem of my shirt. “Is anything wrong with you? You will tell me if something is bothering you, right? I mean I know you took anti-rabid injections, but you never know how the infection spreads and all.”

Aw...hell, now Scott looked hurt. This was the very thing I wanted to avoid.

“Of course man. I trust you the most.” Scott said earnestly. “But I feel absolutely fine. In fact, look, the bite mark is totally gone.”

“What?” I did a double take at the exposed skin near Scott’s hip as he raised his t-shirt and showed me the place the dog had bitten him.

I gasped. The skin was completely smooth and there was not even a mark or anything indicating any injury.

Something was wrong and I needed to pull myself out of the mental headspace that was making me weak and queasy. I was an aspiring journalist for God’s sake and I would not let personal feelings cloud my mind.

“Scott, it is time we investigate the entire thing ourselves.” I put on my hoodie and shoved my wallet in my pocket. “Let us go.”

“But...” Scott started protesting.

“Remember when we were kids and would solve a case before the police and made fun of them?” I smiled wryly.

Scott’s lips lifted up at the memory too. Those were some glorious days! My father would be absolutely livid to find out the various barely legal stuff we used to do to achieve results the police department with all its resources couldn’t because they needed permits and authority and what not.

Finally we were on our way to Beacon Hills Preserve and I realised it would be the first time I would see the Hale House after the fire. My heart clenched painfully at that memory, but I steeled it as best as I could.

I drove down the familiar road and screeched to a halt in the opening in front of the house. I didn’t have the time to gape at the burnt out structure of what had been a warm and loving home of some of the best people I knew for my eyes locked with Derek’s who was being shoved into a police cruiser with his hands cuffed behind his back.

He looked more defiant than scared.

Before my dad could spot me, I darted forward and climbed into the driver’s seat of the cruiser.

“Did you kill the girl?” I asked without any preamble. 

Derek glared through the steel mesh and I realised I should have been afraid of him. But how could I when he looked so vulnerable at the same time! I was once again stuck with the similarity with the Derek I knew, but at the same time how he was most emphatically not same at all.

“Why do you care?” He growled. Well he looked like a caged animal, a dangerous caged animal and my heart started beating loudly against my ribcage.

“Did you kill her elsewhere and brought down the body here? After you gave a lift to Scott? Were you so angry last night because Scott had discovered the evidence you were trying to hide?” I rambled on.

Derek just stared at me unblinkingly. 

“Do you know they would try you in an adult court if you commit a felony? You would go to jail and not to some fucking juvie.” I almost yelled at him. “So why don’t you come down from your ivory tower and say something so that I can help you.”

“You don’t need to worry about me.” Derek finally said. “Be worried about your friend instead. It is full moon tomorrow and you need to lock him up somewhere and throw away the key.”

“What...why?” I asked, completely flabbergasted.

Before Derek could answer the door yanked open and my father was standing there, hands on his hip.

“Really? Stiles?” He sounded so disappointed in me.

“But dad it is Derek.” I almost whined, but I climbed down from the vehicle reluctantly, casting a last glance towards Derek who was still staring at me with face carved in stone. Had all his emotions died along with his family members, I wondered idly.

“I know it is Derek.” My dad whisper-yelled. “But he is a murder suspect now. It is a shitty situation, but I am trying to make the best of it. I need to get to the bottom of this murder with preferably you not nosing around scaring the real culprit away.”

“You don’t think he is guilty?” I asked my dad, incredulous. “But there is a body buried in his porch and he looks like he is going to commit murder anytime.”  


My dad levelled an unimpressed glare at me.

“It is Derek.” He repeated my words back to me. Of course it was. How can my Derry murder a girl so cruelly and bury the body in his own property and act so nonchalant. How could I even doubt his innocence whereas my father, the hardened Sheriff was almost sure he was being framed?

“What can I do?” I asked eagerly. “How can I help?”

“I would keep myself out of it entirely if I were you for you have meddled with this enough.” Dad said in a monotone. “But the girl is not local and the killer might not be either. There are few places in the town where if I were a new person to the town would visit and if someone keeps a vigil long enough, there is a chance they may come across suspicious characters hanging around.”

“Dad...” I placed a hand over my heart. “You are the best.”

“I know kiddo,” dad chuckled. “Now move along while I finish the very unpleasant job to interrogate a kid who fell asleep on my shoulder more than once.”  


I walked away from the scene somewhat lighter in heart.

Dad believed Derek was innocent and I had my task cut out for me.

....

“Stiles...” somebody was calling me by my name...with a voice that was awfully familiar, but it was not right, for the person didn't exist anymore.  
I struggled to open my eyes. My limbs still refused to obey the command of my brain. The problem was that my eyes were already open and I could see I was in my room, sleeping, with eyes wide open. I could see the door was open a quarter of an inch and I could swear there was somebody beyond that door. Within a moment there would be a clawed hand gripping the door and rip it from the hinges. I needed to get away before that thing could enter into my room. I needed to open my eyes. Oh...I forgot, my eyes were already open.

But were they?

“Stiles!”

There was not enough oxygen in my lungs, but I couldn’t move a muscle or scream for help. I was frozen with a nameless terror.

“Stiles,” The voice was becoming frantic. “Stiles...please. WAKE UP RIGHT NOW!”

With a supreme effort I pushed through my consciousness and resurfaced into wakefulness.

I had fallen asleep on my steering wheels near the gas station and there was a Goddamn wolf howling from somewhere inside the forest. I didn’t know there were wolves in California. I shook my head to clear my foggy brain. Food...I needed food and water...lots of it. I got out of the jeep and sauntered into the convenience store. I must have been way too groggy to notice the sleek black Camaro right in front of my nose and the dark figure hunched beside the gas pump until two bulky all-terrain vehicles suddenly appeared and bracketed the smaller car from both sides. 

The man’s form was illuminated by the headlights and I stopped in my track completely for it was none other than Derek and it must have been his car. My phone buzzed in my pocket. I took it out and opened the message. It was from dad who never used SMS lingo and wrote ridiculously long sentences.

“Derek has been let off. The dead body belongs to his sister, Laura Hale. It was confirmed as an animal attack.”

My head snapped back at Derek who suddenly seemed aware of me and he looked at me right through the glass wall. Then everything happened too quickly. Six men in total got down from the two vehicles and accosted Derek who did not buzz from the spot he was standing. It was not until one of them seemed to crowd him against the door of the Camaro that I snapped out of my dazed state.

I put back the snack bars I was holding and stomped out of the store.

“...you don’t have much of that left now, do you?” The man was saying to Derek who met the man’s stare head on with equal part of fury and revulsion. It was only that I knew Derek too well that I realised the tense lines of his shoulders and the unnaturally stiff way he was holding himself meant he was scared shitless, but he was putting a brave front.

My blood boiled under my skin.

“Hey, get back from him this instant.” I bellowed and rushed forward to put myself physically between Derek and the man who seemed to be threatening him not too subtly.

The man frowned, his ice-blue eyes scanning me and I had to admit he cut a pretty intimidating figure, quite unlike the goons (for there was no other word for it) surrounding us.

“I don’t think you have the necessary license required for carrying around assault rifles.” I said calmly, though I was feeling anything but. Was Derek involved with drugs or a part of some mafia gang? 

“Oh these?” One of the thugs smiled smarmily and I really wanted to shove his teeth into his throat, though I was acutely aware if I tried anything like that I would end up being a bloody smudge on the concrete. “These are theatre props.”

“G36 assault rifles, designed by Heckler and Koch, standard infantry rifle from the German armed forces.” I shot back.

“Who are you kid?” Asked the man with pale eyes and salt and pepper hair. The man was (probably) completely unarmed, but he was the one who was giving me the creeps.

“I am the sheriff’s son and a reporter from Beacon Herald.” Well the last part was an exaggeration, but it was only in techinicalities. I WAS a journalist and I DID contribute to the paper. “And therefore trust me when I say this, you need to pack up and go, preferably out of this town altogether.”

“Don’t meddle into matters you don’t understand anything about.” The man said lowly. He didn’t seem angry, in fact, he seemed patronising and it infuriated me further.

“Oh yeah? Let us see what I don’t understand.” I spat. “Accosting a 16-year old, a minor, at night in an almost deserted gas station - do you know what that means in the eyes of law and that is beside the fact that you are carrying illegal assault rifles.”

“Do you even know who the person is whom you are defending so gallantly?” The man smirked.

“Yes. This is Derek Hale, son of Talia and Rory who were two of the most upstanding members of Beacon Hills society before they were burnt to their death, and now that I think of it, it was not accidental it seems. I know this kid had lost almost his entire family when he was barely ten and I know he had lost his sister recently and that he is grieving. I know his favourite colour is blue and he prefers chunky peanut butter over Nutella. I know where he hid his first tooth when it came loose and I know he cried a river when we tried to save a bird from his dog, but it died anyway after three days...”

“Stiles,” The voice sounded so small that I almost didn’t hear it...almost. 

“I know him better than you or anyone ever do. So whatever you have against him, clearly you have something, or probably against his family...you can shove it up your ass for here in this town we defend our own people.”

“Stiles,” I felt a warm hand on my shoulder. “Stop talking now and go.” Derek’s voice was low but firm. 

“Like hell I would.” I said without taking my eyes off the man in front of me who was regarding me with an inscrutable expression and I would lie if I said it was not sending a chill down my spine.

“Stiles.” Derek’s voice was no longer low, but it almost growled out of him. “You are completely delusional if you think you know me. Listen to me carefully, you are not my friend. I don’t know why you have got it into your head that the fact you used to know me as a child gives you the permission to meddle into my life.”  


I whipped around to face Derek. We were standing too close, almost toe to toe and I could see his dark pupils blown so wide that had almost overtaken the green of his irises and I could see the hard set of his mouth and the unyielding lines of his jaw.

And I knew just like that the asshole Derek was back.

“Just go.” He gritted out, eyes cold and hard.

“You heard the man.” I turned around to face the pale-eyed man again. “Now shoo.”

I exhaled and willed my foot to move away, keeping my eyes to the ground.

“He is a kid.” I mumbled weakly, but I was sure they heard it.

“The name is Chris Argent and I didn’t catch your last name.” The man called after me.

“That is none of your business.” I heard Derek answering back. “He is a NOBODY.”

That was the reason I stomped down the urge to rush to him again when they broke the window of Derek’s Camaro even as I was starting my jeep. They didn’t hang around after that. As I drove away I saw Derek standing beside the ruined window of his car with his back towards me.


	4. Darkness falling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologise to my readers for the delay. Trust me it is completely unintentional. I am busy finishing up with the original three-book fantasy series I have written. After facing rejection from about the thirtieth publishing houses who returned my manuscript I am finally going to publish it electronically through Amazon KDP.
> 
> Happy and incredibly terrified at the same time. 
> 
> I will get back to the fanfic soon; please please please don't write me off... :(

“And then I offered her my spare shirt, the one I keep for emergencies for she was soaking wet and she smiled at me. She had dimples, Stiles! She looked like a fucking angel when she smiled. And she was so sweet. She was just...”

I smiled into my coffee mug. Scott had come over to my house for apparently he had a very interesting night and we were having breakfast together. 

“Scott, breathe.” I snapped my fingers in front of Scott’s face. 

It would be just like Scott to fall in love at the first sight with a beautiful stranger who would bring a stray dog in the animal clinic after accidentally hitting it by her car in blinding rain.

It would be just like me to be highly skeptical of a person driving in such weather at four o’ clock in the morning.

Scott’s being at the clinic at that hour was purely incidental though. The police had received an anonymous call about a break-in into the clinic and had called Scott, because Deaton, the actual veterinarian and Scott’s boss was out of town. Scott didn’t find anything amiss and he had thanked the deputy who had been waiting for him outside the clinic and since he was already there, he was catching up with some paper-works. He had fallen asleep at the table and had woken up at the sound of the buzzer.

On opening the door, Scott had come face to face with ‘the most beautiful girl in the universe’ (his words, not mine) who had been holding a small terrier in her arms and was on the verge of a mini-breakdown thinking she had killed the animal.

Enter Scott the hero, who had saved the day, and the dog, earning the everlasting gratitude of the lovely damsel.

“What did you say her name was?”

“Allison.” Scott said dreamily.

I never thought it possible for people to actually have hearts in their eyes like a cartoon character before this!

“And you two are going on a date tonight!”

“Yes.” 

I was sure Scott would actually start glowing, any minute now.

“Wow,” I breathed out. “I am happy for you man. Though it seems like...like...”

“A fairy tale.” Scott smiled dopily. “Exactly.”

“I was going to say the beginning of a crime-thriller featuring a serial killer, a mysterious stranger and a highly idealistic if slightly gullible hero. But I guess ‘fairy tale’ would do.”

“Hey,” Scott threw a fruit loop at my head. “If anybody is a serial killer it is that kid of yours. I am sure he is mixed up with something. I will not be surprised if he has killed his own sister.”

I had to put down the spoon I was holding and take a few moments to breathe through my mouth, for I was suddenly angry. I knew Scott didn’t really mean what he was saying. He didn’t know Derek like I did.

However, knowing my friend I didn’t waste time arguing. For all his goodness of heart Scott could be strangely obstinate regarding certain things and he had decided Derek to be one of those cases. Nothing I said would change his opinion now unless we have the irrefutable proof that Derek was innocent in all the drama happening around him.

One thing I was certain though. I couldn’t tell him about my encounter with the creepy Chris Argent at the gas station last night. For one thing I was still puzzling over the entire incident. I thought it was some family feud at best or some shady business Derek had been involved into because of his sheer naïveté at worst. I knew Scott would immediately jump into much worse conclusions than I had.  


“Leave him be.” I said. “It is up to the police now. But dude, first date in almost six months.” I smiled at Scott, genuinely happy for him. “So, where are you taking Allison.” 

“Actually she is taking me.” Scott beamed. “There is a party at Jackson’s place. Apparently they are friends.”

“Jackson asswipe Whittmore!” I exclaimed. “What have your girl got to do with him?”

“Stiles,” Scott rolled his eyes. “He is Lydia’s boyfriend remember? Your former flame? You don’t get to judge Allison for being friends with Jackson.”

“But you said she is new in town.”

“Yeah. One week to be exact. It turns out she had run into Lydia and Jackson in the library.”

Lydia worked as a part-time librarian at the Beacon Hills library. Though I didn’t know how she managed to spare the time between her new business venture along with Danny (a web-designing company that had been garnering rave reviews on the Internet) and her busy social life (parties thrown by her were stuff of legend here in BH and people would go over a limb to be invited into one of those).

“What was Jackson doing in the library?” I asked, genuinely curious. “Have they finally opened a new books for dummies section or they have fitted the place with wall to wall mirrors?”

“He is not THAT bad.” 

“Scotty, remember the time he used to bully you back in school?” I asked, incredulous. “Remember he shoved me into a ditch and broke my arm once?”

“You keyed his Porsche!”

“He tried to do you serious bodily harm on field because Fintstock was suddenly taking an interest in you!”

“Lacrosse man.” Scott shook his head. “It happens.”

“You,” I jabbed a finger into Scott’s chest, “are the most forgiving person I have ever seen.”

“I don’t know about that.” Scott put one arm around my shoulder. “But I know you will always have my back.”

“Don’t count upon it.” I gave him a playful shove. “If you are going to start hanging around with people like Jackson I need to seriously re-consider your best bro status.”

“Dude, not fair.” Scott whined. “What about Lydia. You are friends with her.”

“Lydia,” I declared with a hand on my heart, “is goddess among mortals. She is untouchable.”

“Are you still hung up on her?” Scott raised his eyebrows.

I pretended to be engrossed into my cereal instead of answering Scott. The truth was a bit complicated. I had been with a couple of girls since High School. Heather, whom I met at Beacon Hills Community College was a lovely girl, but we broke up amicably after sometime. Then there was Rita. She was a couple of years older than me. She was sweet enough, but something was missing. There was none of the sizzling chemistry that we read about in romance novels or in films. Probably real life romance was not meant to be so much dramatic. Probably I was way too cynical to experience that kind of love. Probably there was something wrong with me.

The truth was after Lydia, I never felt that earth-shattering passion for anybody else. After pining for her for more than a decade in secret when we finally became friends she told me in no uncertain terms how nothing could ever happen between us romantically. I was devastated at first, but I got over it. The love that I felt for her was still there, like an old wound that ached from time to time, but after a while it had stopped to hurt that much.

It was at our graduation party that things took a very different turn. That was the day I went home with Danny and had sex with a man, for the first time.

I felt alive after a long, long time.

I didn’t date Danny, who was Jackson’s best friend by the way, and was an absolute angel, both in looks and in disposition. I didn’t imagine I would be in Danny’s league in any universe. However, he was not averse to the idea of friends with benefits, which I turned down, to my own astonishment. Danny took it in good spirit. In fact, both Danny and Lydia were strictly restricted to the friend category in my book, but I was surprisingly ok with that.

“Hey,” Scott placed a hand on my shoulder, startling me out of my reverie. “You here?”

“Yeah,” I smiled wanly at him. “Just spaced out a bit.”

“Never mind. Why don’t you come with us to the party?”

“And be the third wheel?” I raised one eyebrow in challenge. “No thank you very much. I have an article to write for Sunday’s paper.”

“Dude,” Scott became bug-eyed. “They gave you the spot?”

“They gave me the spot.” I confirmed.

It was a dream of mine to have my write-up feature in the Sunday supplementary magazine of Beacon Hills Herald. After much grovelling, I was finally allowed to submit a 500 word write-up on the different species of animals and birds inhabiting the Beacon hills preserve for the Sunday magazine.

Scott jumped up from his seat and gave me a hug. I laughed and patted him on the back. 

...

It was after we had finished our breakfast and were cleaning our bowls standing side by side at the kitchen sink when it happened.

Scott swayed sideways and he gripped the edge of the sink to steady himself.

“Fuck.” I exclaimed slowly backing up from him because his hands had sprouted claws!

Scott looked up at me slowly and his eyes flashed golden.

“Fuck!” I said again. So he WAS infected with something as I suspected all along.

I had been trying to convince myself that whatever it was I had seen the night when Scott had suddenly attacked me was a panic-induced hallucination.

But it was daylight now and the Scott who was approaching me with a strange smirk on his face was definitely not the best friend that I knew.

He also had honest-to-goodness fangs.

My back hit the kitchen counter and I groped behind me blindly, finally coming up with the heavy cast iron frying pan.

I brandished it like a weapon in front of me though my hands were shaking badly.

Scott eyed the frying pan growling low in his throat.

“Scott, buddy,” I tried for a lighter tone though it just trembled with fear. “When I joked you were more of a puppy than a human I didn’t actually wish you to literally turn into a puppy.”

Scott growled again.

“Or a dog,” I hedged. “Whatever you like! You are like a big, bad dog. So scary –”

Scott lunged at me and I hit him squarely in the face with the frying pan. There was a horrible sound of bones crunching.

For a second I panicked for Scott, thinking I had murdered my best friend. Scott looked momentarily stunned as a trickle of blood came out of his nose. I was completely frozen with terror. But then he just shook his head like shaking off the daze and within seconds, the injured nose seemed to heal itself.

“Holy shit!” I raised the frying pan again, gripping it tightly with both hands.

Scott eyed the frying pan balefully and suddenly took off in the opposite direction. I heard him running out of the back door, but didn’t dare to move from my place for a good five minutes.

Then I was running towards the said door, securing the dead bolt and closing all the windows on the first floor, locking them up for a good measure. I went up the stairs to repeat the process with the second-storey windows.

Then I slumped down at my computer desk, all thoughts of my write-up at Sunday Post forgotten.

What the hell was wrong with my friend?

“It is the full moon.” 

I jumped up so fast that the chair fell down sideways with a clatter.

“What the hell?”

Derek was staring blankly at me from across the room, hands shoved into the pockets of the expensive leather jacket, scowl firmly in place. Because he was the creepiest of the creeper that ever crept, I didn’t even realise he was IN the room when I was closing the window, an action which proved to be totally ineffectual, as I realised now.

“You need to stay away from him today.” Derek didn’t even seem to realise there might be something wrong with the entire scenario. “Or for a length of time in the future. Or forever.” He added as an afterthought.

“How the hell did you get in?” I yelled at him, trying to mask my fear with anger.

“It doesn’t matter,” Derek said impatiently.

“I doesn’t matter?” I spluttered. “How do you think it is remotely acceptable to just barge into my room through the window, I presume, and just lurk in here?”

Then I added softly as a look crossed over his features for a second which could have been hurt, “Derry, what the hell happened to you in New York?”

“Life happened.” He snarled. “And a few deaths.”

I shrank back in the face of such rage. 

Derek’s face was immediately contrite.

“I don’t...” he started raising his hand and I flinched, though there was a good ten-feet distance between us. 

He dropped his hand like burned.

“I didn’t come here to scare you.”

“Well, you are not doing a very good job of convincing me otherwise.” I screeched at him.

Derek huffed out a frustrated breath.

“Just...stay away from Scott.”

“Do you know what is wrong with him?” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Wait, are you the reason something is wrong with him for it happened after you came back from New York.”

Derek looked at me blankly.

“Dead silence.” I nodded after a few seconds. “I didn’t know what else I expected. So if you are not going to tell me what the hell is going on, you can just as well make yourself scarce.”

Derek walked over the window without further comment and unlocked it. He swung his long legs gracefully over the ledge and dropped on the ground like it was nothing.

And fuck me but that was so hot!

Still, I rushed to the window fully expecting to see Derek writhing on ground in pain clutching his knee with both hands.

What I was confronted with instead was Derek standing casually with feet planted wide apart, smirking up at me.

I gulped. This boy was messing with my head in more than one ways!

“See you around Stiles.” He winked at me and took off. 

Suddenly I remembered the day with blazing clarity!

....

I was rooted to the first step of the stairs as the strange scene unfolded in front of me.

Rory and Peter were half dragging and half carrying Derry, kicking and screaming furiously, from the front porch to the inside of the house.

Aoife was whining at a distance with her shoulders hunched and tail tucked between her legs , clearly feeling distressed for her little master.

Micky, Derek’s cousin and Peter and Sonia’s son was crying disconsolately and saying “Der, Der, Der…” over and over again, waving his little chubby hands in front of him blindly while his mother was trying to soothe him unsuccessfully.

Rory and Peter, apparently would have none of it, but were hell bent on removing little Derek from there.

I didn’t know what was stranger, that the little five-year-old was putting a fight with two grown men who had to exert a considerable amount of force to drag him away or the fact that Derek was throwing a fit.

I couldn’t remember Derek ever having a single temper tantrum before this.

He was weird like that!

It took Laura and me a good one hour to make Derek stop crying afterwards.

Laura had to forgo her entire secret stash of Whoppers.

Only when Derek’s pitiful sobs had died down to quiet sniffles and he had finally fallen into an exhausted sleep, clutching Aoife like a lifeline (a comfort the dog provided gratefully, looking absolutely relieved for the ordeal to be over) did I dare ask Laura what the hell it was all about.

“Derry is not allowed to play with Micky until tomorrow.” She had said solemnly. 

“Why?” I asked, puzzled.

Micky adored Derek and the little man was very good with children. I saw no point in suddenly banning Derek from Micky even for one day without good reason.

“Because of the full moon.”

“What?”

“Laura why don’t you help dad with his spreadsheet? He has forgotten how to format the cells. Again.”

Laura rolled her eyes at the inexplicable incompetence of the adult, especially her dad, with regards to anything related to technology, something she was an expert of even at twelve years of age, but she left readily enough.

I narrowed my eyes at Peter.

Among all the Hales, Peter always struck me to be the oddest one.

“What was she talking about?”

“What?” Peter asked.

“Full moon?”

“Full moon what?”

I heaved a sigh. I knew when Peter decides to be cryptic he wouldn’t give a straight answer.

...

I had been putting keywords into the search engine browser idly and skimming through the content with unseeing eyes.

Suddenly I sat up, one particular entry having caught my attention.

“Oh Scott!” I gulped. 

I jumped up and started rummaging through my cupboard for something decent to wear.

It looked like I was going to the party after all.


	5. Lycanthrope

I should seriously consider moving out of this blasted town because... _what_?

Well, the answer happened to be right in front of me even though I refused to believe my eyes.

Lycanthrope.

That’s what it was.

Because Scott was a growling beast-slash-hulk and was facing off with Derek sporting fangs and claws and who looked equal parts pissed off and hurt (I didn’t even know how he could pull off that look in the first place).

“For the last time, I didn’t eat your precious Allison,” Derek growled, legitimately growled at Scott, like he was a big dog or a...wolf. “Tell Stiles to go to her house and check on her if you don’t believe me.”

“Why do you have her jacket then?” Scott growled right back. “I will rip you apart and feed on your intestines if anything happens to her.”

And that...ladies and gentlemen, was my bro, the overgrown puppy who would save bunnies from the jaws of a mountain lion. Damn, I missed those years when the only problem in the woods we faced were dead-bodies mauled by wild animals.

Or...wait!

“Scott, have you tried to call her?” I asked reasonably and immediately wanted to shove those words back into my mouth as two pairs of glowing eyes turned to me – golden on Scott and blue on Derek – and I also might have been fucked up six ways to Sunday that I thought the colour suited Derek and that he looked downright pretty.

“I tried to but I crushed my cellphone.” Scott looked on the verge of tears, which looked ridiculous on his beast (wolf?) face.

“Bro,” I started disapprovingly.

I mean, I knew he had this totally unreasonable hate-at-first-sight going on with Derek but he could at least tell me to check on her. It was him who left her stranded on the sidewalk in front of Lydia’s house after all. In spite of the fact that I had called to tell him in no uncertain terms to stay away from Allison or the party or people in general tonight, but would he listen? And I get it, really. I was not the hero of the story which evidently revolved around the tragic tell of love and magic – something like Beauty and the beast (though I am yet to confirm who was Beauty in this scenario since Scott did have that whole kind and compassionate thing going for him and I was still to form an opinion on the mysterious Allison whom I had just a glimpse of). I realized that I was only an annoying sidekick to the brave and lovelorn hero because if anybody deserved a fairy-tale, it was Scott. But still, it stung when he disconnected my call mid-rant at Allison sighting.

I arrived at the party thankfully before the sudden furry nature of Scott’s ailment revealed itself. But before I could make my way towards where Scott and Allison were dancing cheek to cheek (so romantic it practically gave me a toothache just by looking at them and so I might have paused a minute a few just to admire the view and secretly shed a few manly tears) Scott was pushing off from her and running down the street with Allison hot on his heels. I could only watch helplessly as Derek swooped in from some dark corner where he no doubt had been lurking in and whisked Allison away in his flashy Camaro.

Allison must have been a smart girl, I wouldn’t know. But she should have really known better than to get into a car with a stranger however young he was or the model-level-hotness that his person exuded.

Anyway, I had a bad feeling about where Scott was heading and it appeared my hunch was exactly right though not for the reason I imagined. I drove to the Preserve and as I was approaching the Hale house, I heard the howling. It was only a miracle that I found the two fighting duo in the dark forest and only then, I noticed a jacket hanging from a branch, decidedly feminine, which was the root cause of the fight. As per Derek, he had stolen the jacket to lure Scott away from Allison “because of her own safety, Jesus!” and Scott of course, wouldn’t believe a single word Derek said.

It was all very angsty and testosterone-y – like I was suddenly in the middle of a supernatural teen drama series (I wish!) about werewolves and well, more werewolves, because by now I was sure the Hales were werewolves, at least most of them. At any rate, there was no mafia involved in the form of scary-looking pale-blue eyed dudes with salt and pepper beard.

Or so I sincerely hoped!

“I haven’t hurt Allison Argent,” Derek is growling low in a voice that indicated how his patience was running really thin. He must have amazing control over his whatever-that-thing-he-was-afflicted-with that his face was still completely human, except for the (prettily) glowing eyes and the fangs. There was definitely some top-notch fang action right there!

“If I wanted to take revenge on the Argents, they wouldn’t even hear me coming,” he was saying. I shook my head. It was not the time or the place to catalogue the beauteous thing that Derek had become. Also, he was not a thing or an object. He was a person, well, a wolf-person or a wolf who looked like a person. Anyway, it didn’t give me the right to leer at him. Really. I thought I had better self-control than that.

Suddenly, Derek’s head whipped around and he yelled at me, “Look out, Stiles!”

And there was an honest-to-God arrow that flew right over my head as I ducked down abruptly.

Jesus tap-dancing Christ on a toast!

The next one pinned Scott’s hand into the tree and he howled in pain. I was torn between clapping my hands over my ears and rushing forward to help him. As it turned out, it was not needed as Derek took care of it, though not very gently as was evident from the pained yelp Scott let out and the next moment he was dragging me and Scott by the scruff of our necks and running through the forest.

Derek ran like he knew the forest like the palm of his hands because of course he did. The absence of six years seemed to have done nothing to dull his memory. I vaguely realised we were running in the opposite direction of the Hale house. I didn’t hear any footsteps behind or even crunches of dry leaves and brambles indicating somebody was following us, but Derek kept a brutal pace on, never faltering in his steps even though he was practically dragging Scott and me, forcing us to keep up with him.

Finally, we were probably able to shake off our pursuers or put the necessary distance between us that was satisfactory to his wolfy highness. I wouldn’t know because I couldn’t hear anything in the first place, but they were out there – the pursuers – with the damning evidence of it in the form of Scotty’s mangled hand...or, well, never mind!

“It’s healed already!” I screeched. “Scott, your hand is healed.”

“Yeah,” Scott said, doubling over his knees in exhaustion.

I straight up collapsed on the forest floor, staring at the dark sky through the branches that crisscrossed over the head.

“So,” I panted. “Werewolves!”

Derek appeared in my line of sight. The bastard was not even out of breath.

“You are not going to tell anybody or else...”

That made me angry enough to sit up.

“Or else what, Derry?” I spat at him.

He jerked back like I electrocuted him or something.

“Don’t call me that!” he ordered.

“Why?” I asked tightly, trying to shove down the hurt.

“Does it matter?” Scott whisper-yelled furiously. “What matters is who the hell were those guys and why were they shooting at us?”

Derek looked up and away, in the distance, like he could see something we couldn’t.

“Hunters,” he said it in the same tone we would say ‘fucking-psycho-mass-murderer-not-worth-anybody’s-salt.’

“Hunters? Hunters of what? Bears? Wolves? Werewolves?” I rambled.

Derek tensed up on the last one even though he still refused to look at any of us.

“That’s fucking-tastic,” Scott would have none of it and went to stand nose-to-nose with the extremely hostile and probable-turning-into-wolf-to-go-on-a-murder-rampage-every-full-moon kid. “But they wouldn’t attack me if you didn’t bite me in the first place now, would they? So, you. Fix. This.”

Derek looked at a loss for just about two seconds before shoving Scott back roughly.

“Is it really that bad, huh? You are stronger and faster. You can see better, hear better, smell better – all your senses a thousand times more enhanced – you heal quickly and don’t suffer from human sickness,” he took a deep breath and leaned on Scott whom he had backed up against a tree and who was looking at him both fearfully and incredulously. “You see, the bite – it’s a gift.”

Then, he leaned even more, caging Scott with his hands planted on both sides of his head. He was nearly the same height as Scott or probably an inch taller, but he was broad-shouldered, and even though he still had the youthful lankiness of a teenager, it was pretty apparent he would fill up his frame pretty soon and would tower over both Scott and me.

His face was impossibly close to Scott’s and the latter seemed transfixed, hypnotised for a few moments, and I felt...I was insanely angry and jealous...it was like my heart was near about close to exploding. I didn’t even want to examine why.

“You and I,” Derek was saying, his voice husky and intimate, “we are brothers now.”

Rage exploded behind my eyelids in a mushroom cloud. I stood up and stalked to them and yanked Scott from under Derek who straightened up and let him stumble into me.

“He is not your brother. You are _nobody’s_ brother. Don’t try to replace your dead family by biting unsuspecting people and turning them into monsters, Derek. That’s just unacceptable,” I said, clutching Scott’s arms like he would disappear soon. For all I know he might. He was all I have beside dad, my soul brother, and I couldn’t bear to think of losing him. I would die first. And Derek here, who appeared like a meteor in a town where he had no business since he was fucking absent for more than half a decade, could not just waltz in and take Scott away from me like some Harlequin hero leaving me to rot in this godforsaken place.

And I refused to see how Derek shrank inward before straightening up again, how his eyes became shiny for a second in acute hurt before it became stony like a couple of emerald flints. He had made it clear how I was a ‘nobody,’ didn’t he? He had no business to look like he was seconds away from crying when he had made it abundantly clear of how little importance I really was.

“I was not...I didn’t bite him,” Derek said, low and angry, with his jaw set and eyes blazing. Making me wonder if I just imagined the pathetically vulnerable look seconds ago.

Scott apparently had enough of it. “I don’t believe you,” he said, gently untangling himself from me.

One good result of an arrow sticking into his arm was apparently it got him control the wolf-thing. However temporary it was, I would take the respite and run with it.

He raised a warning finger at Derek. “Don’t you dare to come near Allison again,” he said. “And Stiles,” he added after a pause and God, if that didn’t make me feel all warm and gooey for a moment.

“But I can help you,” Derek said, clearly frustrated. “I need to help you. Laura would rise up from the grave and kill me if I let a newly turned beta rampage around the town and hurt someone. Eventually.”

Scott appeared unsure and scared. I hated the look on him.

“Hey, don’t you worry,” I nudged him with my shoulder. “I will never let you hurt anybody. I will be your wing-man.”

To Derek who was standing stony-faced, I just said, “I would have been more inclined to believe you if you came clear which you had plenty of chances to. But you lost the opportunity. And Scott is right. I don’t trust you, either. So, stay away from us and I mean it.”

I didn’t give him any time to reply or finish the abortive movement he made like he was trying to reach out to me or something, which was bullshit. He had refused to acknowledge knowing me at one point in time and I felt vindictive to throw it back to his face.

Scott thankfully had a far better sense of direction than I had or it was probably because he was a newly minted werewolf, but we found our jeep and high-tailed it out of the preserve with Scott shivering in the passenger seat as the first rush of adrenaline subsided.

If I felt a flare of guilt remembering Derek’s face as I hurled those harsh words at him, I didn’t let it bother me. Much.

I did the right thing because he was being a huge creep on top of being secretive and evasive, none of which did anybody any good. Didn’t I?

The first thing we did after heading back into the town was to check on Allison. It appeared Derek was right. She was safely ensconced inside her home. We didn’t even need to go inside to check because Scott could smell her from the outside, the reason which he freaked out and ran out of the party because his enhanced senses were overwhelming him and he was on the verge of wolfing out.

Then, a black SUV screeched to a halt in front of the house and Allison opened the front door greeting the guy who emerged from it with a dimpled smile and a worried “Dad, why do all your clients like to meet you this late at night?”

In answer, the man, the blue-eyed guy who had cornered Derek in the gas station, smiled and hugged her and distracted her by asking if she enjoyed the party.

They disappeared inside the house laughing and teasing each other and both Scott and I released a collective breath from our hiding place in a thick bush in front of her house.

“Shit!” he said, eyes large as saucers. “This is the guy who was shooting arrows in the woods.”

“Are you sure?” I frowned at him.

“Positive,” he clenched his jaw in frustration.

We came out of our hiding place the moment we thought the coast was clear and walked down a few blocks to where I had parked my jeep. Both of us were lost in thought. But while Scott must have been thinking how fucked up it was that the love-of-his-life’s father was a werewolf hunter in all probability, I mused, once again, upon Derek’s words, his expressions, his eyes...those fucking expressive eyes that said everything his body wouldn’t give out...and I felt...guilty.

God, it was so messed up and really, I once again wished I could just leave this town behind me and start afresh. 


End file.
